


halcyon days

by crayons



Category: fromis_9 (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29062344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayons/pseuds/crayons
Summary: It's already Saerom's birthday.
Relationships: Jang Gyuri/Lee Saerom
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	halcyon days

You hear it before you even see it for yourself; snow has come down, bountiful and beautiful in all its cold, and icy glory. The TV informs you this as the news plays in the background, your parents and brother snapping their heads to the wide window overlooking the outside to confirm, as though the news could be wrong (although lately it painfully seems to be the case) before you all too quietly finish your meal.

You feel the sting of the wind slap against your exposed cheek as you eventually make your way outside, carefully sinking your feet in the inches of white that carpeted the streets.

You were never the type to be fascinated by things like this, not the first snow, or the blooming of flowers or the changing color of the leaves, _especially_ never the prickly heat of the blazing summer sun, and yet something about today feels like it should carry some sort of meaning. In a few days, they’ve reported, the country will experience the coldest day in decades.

You remember this time last year, it was awfully cold as well, teeth chattering and an exhale of breath fogging up in the cold air. Although not as cold, based on the news. It was probably more striking in your memory because it was also so empty, with no work and no schedules to burn your energy in. Use this time to be better, they said, but something about that doesn’t push its way into your heart. It lands in your ears like a barren _promise_ , and there’s an irony there somewhere that doesn’t escape you.

You remember the year before that too, but you remember because it was warmer, in your memory at least, the few moments that you can replay in your mind tinted in a warm glow. You remember the shared laughter, the hot drinks, and food, the silent acknowledgment of returning. Most importantly, of healing, together. Their warm hearts, and hands, and what seems like your underserved luck to be someone loved, protected, accepted by these people. So, in turn, you have nothing else to offer but to love, protect and accept them in turn.

You remember even the year before that, and you remember because… well because it’s her birthday. Appropriate to start the year with the captain’s birthday, of course.

You try to think of what Saerom would think of today’s snow. You wish there was a way to project her thoughts out into the world. If there was a way, how fascinating and beautiful would her view of the world be? Sometimes you think the stars definitely twinkle a little bit more, the blue of the skies and the seas more vivid, the colors and tones of possibly everything more vibrant just for her, just because of the way she looks at them.

You think of the way she sees you; well, more specifically, you think of the letter she wrote you for your birthday a year ago, how she sees your potential, and your misplaced doubt, and how if she were more like you, she would be more confident, and a little braver because she apparently recognizes your alleged innate goodness. You thought about that more deeply after reading her letter again and again and again to the point that the paper is unable to hide the signs of wear and tear because of your constant folding and unfolding. You think of how completely mistaken she is, not of you (maybe of you, too actually) but of her own person.

If she were more like you, what huge loss would that be? When Saerom is uniquely fascinating and _good._ Strong in her own right, but gentle, always gentle. Passionate, big on empathy, kind to a fault sometimes, loving and encouraging, and so so _so_ warm, you still get surprised by the depth of her heart.

You wish you were more like her. You think the world definitely deserves more people like Saerom instead. Maybe the world even _needs_ it. You certainly do.

With the amount of pouring snow, slightly collecting on your favorite beanie, you have to lightly shake your head before entering the first convenience store you spot on your little neighborhood walk. You make your way to the cooler near the cashier, housing all the now uninteresting ice cream varieties, and with one look and you recognize that they didn’t have the one you want. Makes sense, actually. No need to stock up on ice cream. You smell the waft of some sort of pastry and spot the cashier flipping what you recognize as a specialized _bung-eo-ppang_ pan, fish shape prominent on each side, and you two briefly make eye contact, then he nods, urging you to come closer.

“You like red bean?”

What did other people use to say? The coldest days birth the warmest of hearts? Yea, something like that. You accept it when he offers it to you, “On the house,” he says and in the tiny crinkle in his eyes, you recognize he is smiling despite a mask obscuring his mouth, and you return the gesture unknowingly.

“Can I stay for a bit?” you ask.

He nods before turning the music up, some hip-hop song blaring on as you move towards the tables. You have the full view of the outside, the snow trickling in heaps, but it is warm where you are seated.

At the kindness of a stranger’s little gesture, and at the physical warmth of the bread as you sink your teeth in, red bean spilling out at the weakly connected edges, you are reminded of a time before the summer that changed your life. A moment reminiscent of today’s simple joy. At a dance academy in your neighborhood, your gaze connecting with a then-stranger from across the room, an instant recognition of… something certainly bubbling in your chest as she walks towards you to introduce herself. The coincidence of that kind of chance encounter, you dare not mistake declaring destiny.

Even just recalling that the two of you were once like that is nice. But at the same time, you tell yourself this: whatever you do, don’t think about the way Saerom stiffens when you drag your finger on her exposed knee, all tense and affected. Don’t think about how Saerom averts her eyes after lingering a bit longer on you when you all fill the room with chatter about romance, and love, and the faraway future. Don’t think about the languid way Saerom falls on your lap after long hours of practice, seemingly unguarded and content even with the exhaustion that hits all of you in varying degrees.

Whatever you do, don’t think about dreams becoming reality, even if the two of you being in the same group in itself seems like an absolute example of that. You try not to think about the way her eyes meet yours because you were already waiting for her to look at you, and you _especially_ try not to think about why your dreams include her, in romance, love, the faraway future, and all that.

The fish-shaped pastry is gone in no time. You decide to head back home, wrapping your padded jacket more closely around your body due to the sudden lack of warmth after exiting the convenience store. Later, at a quiet street near your building, you hear your message tone. You bring your phone out to see one new message from your brother. But the time and the date alert you to a more important matter.

It’s already Saerom’s birthday.

You can’t feel your fingertips enough to even bother unlocking your phone and replying, and you’re just about close to arriving at the comfort of your home anyway. You convince yourself you’ll just have to greet Saerom eventually, just like how you’ll tell her everything eventually, everything including how you wish you could always be together. 

But later that early morning, before succumbing to sleep, and after half wishing that Saerom herself has already gone to bed, you send a simple “Happy birthday, Lee Saerom!” fully aware of its inadequacies and you’ll just have to convince yourself again and again and again that you’ll eventually learn all the right words to say when you become brave and confident enough just as Saerom says you could be.

**Author's Note:**

> yea i know it's late but if it were up to me saerom day would be every day


End file.
